He hunkers down on the bed, mouths at my balls, and then slides his hand under my ass to roll my hips up. “Hold your legs up,” he tells me, and I grab my ankles and hold on like I’m hanging from a cliff. He works his way down my taint to my sore hole and gives it a wide, warm lick.
No one has ever done this to me before, treated my asshole with the respect it deserves. Who would have thought some mobster would be the first to do it? I wriggle against his mouth as he tongue-kisses my hole, my dick straining and leaking and making a goddamn spectacle of itself.
“You like that?” Luca rumbles, after he seems to have licked out all the cream he put inside me.
“I love that,” I gasp, wriggling around more.
“You want more, or you want to come?”
“I wanna shoot,” I say, because I don’t like to think I’m keeping him down there too long. He might get bored or something.
But he smirks. “I wanna do this some more,” he says. “And since we’re doing what I want, I guess you’ll just have to lie there and put up with it.”
I can’t stop the low, approving moan that forces its way out of my lungs. He’s a giver, not just a taker, this man of mine. So I do as I’m told and I let him eat me out as long as he likes. I stretch my legs wide to make sure he has access, watch his dark head working away between my thighs, and I wonder what exactly I did in this life or a former one to make me so goddamn lucky right now.
He introduces an edge again, pinching the softest parts of my thighs even as he keeps up the tongue work. It has me cursing him, pleading with him, begging him to stop, begging him to give me more…
Finally, when even the slightest twitch of his tongue has me squeaking and quivering, he pulls his mouth off my ass and turns his attention back to my cock. It’s run a river over my abs, and he licks that up while he wraps a hand around my shaft and gives it a few slow, torturous strokes.
He catches my eye as he lowers his mouth on my cock, and presses the head of it into the ring of his lips, his tongue flicking into my slit. At another time, when I haven’t been kept on edge for what feels like hours, I’d like to find out exactly how talented that mouth of his can be on my dick as well as my ass, but right now I’ve reached my limit.
“Please let me—” I gasp, and God, I hope he says yes, because there’s no stopping the geyser right now.
“Let me taste you,” he says, and sucks my cock back down. I’ll have to take that as permission because I’m already spilling, shooting, thrusting into his mouth, and he’s taking it all, swallowing and humming his approval.
He keeps sucking and teasing until I’m finally spasming dry, and crying out from sensitivity rather than pleasure.
“Was it everything you dreamed of for a wedding night?” he asks later, the irony dripping from his tongue as much as pre-cum does from my cock.
We’re wrapped up in the blankets, and apparently I’m allowed to sleep here tonight, although he told me it was just so he could keep an eye on me.
Whatever. I know a snuggle-slut when I see one.
“Everything and more,” I yawn. “I’ll be glad to report our marital consummation to anyone who asks, in detail, with no need for embellishment.”
He stiffens, and I don’t mean his cock. And then he’s leaning over me, frowning, his face dangerous. “You don’t tell anyone anything about us,” he snaps. “Ever. You hear me?No gossiping with the girlfriends.”
I raise an eyebrow and fake insouciance, even though my heart’s leapt into my throat. Fucker is scary when he wants to be. “I’m not stupid, husband. I won’t give ’em any ammunition.”
He glares some more, and then says, “We’re married now and that means your loyalty lies withme. Not your father, not your family, not even your newFamiglia. Me alone.”
“You,” I assure him. “And Brother Frank.”
He sniffs at that, but I can tell it pleases him. He lies down and settles back into the comfy cuddle we had going before I triggered the mobster inside.
I trail my fingers over his scar, over his tattoo. “I do love you, you know,” I say softly. “I know it’s crazy, and I know you’ll say I don’t reallyknowyou, but I do. And I love you.”
He goes rigid in the bed. “You need to stop saying that.”
“But—”
“You’re a good fuck,” he says, rolling away from me. “We can come to some arrangement for our physical needs.”
And not long after that, he subsides into gentle snores. But that last comment of his has opened up something dark inside me, like everything was healing back together nicely, but that one casual line ripped open the stitches.
You’re a good fuck.
Chapter Seventeen
